


To See You Again

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Black Sails
Genre: #fhaw17, Each individual story is posted complete, Flint/Hamilton Week 17, Fluffy, M/M, Maybe some angst, Not unrelated one shots like I thought, Probably all of them - Freeform, Shorts, They're actually all related, cross posted to tumblr, prompts, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: A series of 7 out of order one shots for Flint/Hamilton week on Tumblr and cross posted on my blog 'beneaththeblacksails'. Come follow and screech with me!Ratings by Day:One: Too Silent to Sleep - GTwo: Promise me you'll come back... - GThree: A Bad Idea - GFour: To See You Again - Mild PG-13Five: When You're Far From Home - GSix: When You're Lost At Sea - GSeven: You, I Didn't Miss - GEight: To Memory - PG-13 (Swearing)





	1. Too Silent to Sleep - Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is interested in reading these chronologically here is the order:
> 
> Chapter 3  
> Chapter 2  
> Chapter 5  
> Chapter 1  
> Chapter 6  
> Chapter 7  
> Chapter 4  
> Chapter 8

**Flint/Hamilton Week:**

Day One: Why You Love Them  
Theme: After the Reunion  
Quote/Song: Light - Sleeping At Last

TITLE: **Too Silent to Sleep**

_~Notes: Well, I don't ship this as hard as other things in this show, but it's enough that I felt like participating. I'll be doing short one shot fics for this, just little snippet things. God help me if any of them try and expand like my stories normally do. I did the best I could with the theme, and took inspiration from the song title.~_

Flint couldn't sleep. Not simply because everything around him was strange, though it was, stranger than it had been for him in a very, very long time. He was used to strange and unexpected, it came with the life of a pirate. What he wasn't used to was the silence, the stillness.

The moon was bright outside his window and Flint turned his head to watch it. It wasn't the same as when he was at sea, it was...too steady.

“Are you all right?”

Flint tensed, glancing over, relaxing when he met blue eyes and he forced himself to smile.

“I'm fine,” he mumbled, sighing.

“I know it's not easy, I know you left everything you've know for most of your life behind,” Thomas said quietly, shifting so he could watch Flint in the moonlight.

“I don't know if it can just be over for me,” Flint admitted. “It's not that simple, it's...everything...”

Thomas sighed, resting his head on the pillow again, watching Flint's hands moving restlessly atop his chest.

“Do you want to go back?” he whispered and Flint looked at him, his face genuinely surprised.

Flint sat up, pushing the rough blanket back and swinging his legs over the edge of the small cot, gazing at Thomas, who lay on his own cot across the small room.

“Everything I've done, the last twelve years,” he said quietly, his hands gripping the edges of the cot. “I did everything...because I thought you were dead. I didn't believe...when he told me you were alive...but you're here. You're alive. We're both alive...as hard as it is to walk away from the life I've know, you cannot think I would even consider walking away from you. Not again. Not after everything.”

Thomas smiled softly, ruefully. “But you miss the sea,” he said softly. “The sea is in your blood.”

“Thomas...”

“I'm only telling you that you have a choice, if you want it...I have no doubt you could escape from this place in a moment if you chose to...I heard the stories over the years of the notorious Captain Flint. This place has it's share of former pirates,” Thomas grinned. Flint sighed, shaking his head with a smile.

“We're leaving, in a week or so,” Flint nodded. “We sure as hell aren't staying here for the rest of our lives.” He made a face at the thought. “Maybe, if you'd like, we could go somewhere...and run a small merchant ship...far away from pirates, from Nassau, from the Caribbean. Perhaps we'll go to Greece,” he chuckled.

Thomas smiled, nodding. “I'd like to leave this place,” he said. “It hasn't been harsh, but it is exceptionally dull.”

“That's settled then,” Flint grinned, a spark in his eyes. “We're breaking out.”

“Come here,” Thomas chuckled, shifting further against the wall. Flint's grin faltered for a moment before he stood and crossed the room and carefully tucked himself into small space, allowing Thomas to drape the blanket and an arm over him.

“Now,” Thomas said. “Go to sleep, so you have your rest and can get us out of here.”

Flint chuckled and nodded, leaning his forehead against Thomas' as he took a deep breath. The feel of Thomas beside him again, the rhythm of his breathing and his heartbeat, slowly lulled Flint to sleep, a deep and dreamless sleep, the most restful he'd had in years.


	2. Promise me you'll come back... - Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FlintHamilton week day 2:  
> Theme: Meditations
> 
> This is a small 'what was going on' in the scene we briefly see with Thomas reading a book to James during the flashbacks. Very very short.

**Flint/Hamilton Week:**

Day Two: Favorite Moment/Scene  
Theme: _‘Meditations’_ \- Marcus Aurelius  
Quote/Song: Set Fire to the Third Bar - Snow Patrol 

TITLE:  **Promise me you'll come back...**

 

“This book, what's so special about it?” James asked, glancing over his shoulder at Thomas who paused what he was reading to raise his eyes, a half formed smile on his face, expression clearly saying 'Have you even read it.'

“You know I haven't had the time,” James said indignantly, protesting Thomas' look.

“And you don't listen when I speak to you?” Thomas teased, closing the book and setting it aside. James smirked, leaning back so that be lay across Thomas' lap, his elbow resting on the other side of Thomas' hip.

“You know I have more on my mind than whatever it is you happen to be reading,” he said quietly, his free hand resting against Thomas' stomach, feeling the warms through the thin shirt. “I like to listen to your voice. That doesn't mean I pay attention to what you say.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and sat up, catching James in a gentle kiss.

“Sometimes I think you wouldn't know good literature if it danced in front of you naked,” Thomas grumbled, causing James to smirk.

“Are you offering something?” he asked and Thomas gave him a lighthearted shove, causing them both to laugh as they kissed gently.

“I sail in a week,” James said quietly, sobering.

“So soon?” Thomas asked, drawing back, his forehead wrinkled.

“I only found out this morning,” James said, staring at his hands. Thomas smiled, nodding.

“That would explain your message then,” he smirked and James huffed.

“Is it so strange that I wanted to see you?” he asked and Thomas smiled.

“You're always busy on Tuesdays,” he pointed out and James chuckled, wondering when Thomas had become such an aficionado of his schedule.

“I should go,” James said. “I have an entire afternoon of meetings and three weeks of perpetration to be done in five days. I just wanted to make time...”

“Will I see you again before you go?” Thomas asked quietly and James sighed.

“I could make time for dinner on Sunday?” he asked softly, trying to think of the only time he had to himself in the upcoming days. Thomas nodded.

“I'll have an invitation sent to you tomorrow,” he said.

James nodded and rose silently, gathering his clothes and dressing.

“James,” Thomas called and James turned, shrugging on his coat. “Promise me something?”

“If I can,” James said, half a smile on his face. Promises were hard things to make in his line of work.

“Come back?” Thomas said so quietly James almost didn't hear. His heart clenched and he walked over to the bed and leaned down, kissing Thomas desperately.

“I will do everything in my power to always, always come back to you,” he swore.

“Thank you,” Thomas sighed. “That's all I wanted to hear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please imagine for a moment that James had no taste for literature before he met Thomas and that all the reading he does over the next ten years is because of it. It's subtle, but I like the headcanon.


	3. A Bad Idea - Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas want's to bring James along to his sisters wedding while Miranda is away. James does not thing this is a very good idea. In fact he thinks it's a very, very bad idea. 
> 
> Rated - G

**Flint/Hamilton Week:**

Day Three: Favorite Kiss  
Theme: Wedding  
Quote/Song: Dear True Love - Sleeping At Last

TITLE:  **A Bad Idea**

 

“Come on, it'll be fun,” Thomas said lightly. James just continued to quirk an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Your sister's wedding? I hardly think it would be appropriate for me to attend. With you,” James added sardonically.

“Nonsense,” Thomas brushed the worry aside. “My cousin Albert's wife is too ill to leave the house, and it's impolite to attend a wedding alone, he always brings alone one of his friends from his card club or debate society or whatnot. No one finds it the least bit odd.”

“I bet you they do,” James mumbled under his breath, resigned to the fact that he would likely not win this argument.

“Like I said,” Thomas smirked, his back to James. “It'll be fun.”

\- - -

“Thomas, there you are,” a light voice called over the music and James and Thomas both turned to see the bride sweeping toward them. Thomas held his arms out to embrace his sister, kissing her on both cheeks before he held her at arms length to look her over.

“My little sister Elizabeth,” he signed. “All grown and married.” Elizabeth smiled.

“And who is your guest? I was so sorry that Miranda couldn't come, I do hope her mother is feeling better, now,” Elizabeth said with a smile as she turned to James.

“She seems to be on the mend,” Thomas nodded. “Elizabeth, I'd like you to me Lieutenant James McGraw. Lieutenant, my sister, Elizabeth.”

“My lady,” James said with a smile and a bow, kissing her hand lightly, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Oh!” Elizabeth said, delight obvious. “You're the one who's helping Thomas with his plan for the pirates, how exciting!” she said happily.

“I'm afraid it's not as exciting as it sounds, ma'am. A lot of talk and good deal more politics, while not much really gets done,” James smiled and he could see Thomas fighting back the urge to roll his eyes.

“Well, I'm sure you're getting a great deal of work done,” she said with a smile that one would not be hard pressed to call a smirk. James could feel the pit of his stomach dropping out as her glanced shifted between him and her brother knowingly.

“Pardon me, my lord, may I have a word?” James asked, turning to Thomas and doing his best not to grit his teeth. “In private,” he added, glancing at Elizabeth, noting her smile had turned to a full smirk, which she hid demurely behind her hand.

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Thomas nodded, stretching out his arm to indicate that James proceed him and the nodded to Elizabeth as they made their way out into the gardens, to a deserted gazebo far from the party.

“Thomas,” James ground out when they came to a halt. “Does your sister know of your...inclinations?”

Thomas merely chuckled, tilting his head. “Would it bother you if she did?”

“I...did you bring me here to...show me off?” he asked at last, befuddled.

“Does it bother you if I did?” Thomas asked, leaning closer, his words soft. James glanced around, seeing that they were hidden from the view of the house and guests by a large hedge maze and he sighed.

“It's reckless,” he pointed out and Thomas smirked.

“But you love it,” he whispered, now only inches from James, so close the other man could feel the heat off his skin and closed his eyes to suppress the shiver that ran through him.

“God help me, I do,” he whispered and then Thomas' lips were on his.


	4. To See You Again - Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> London, 2010, James is late for a meeting, it's raining, and he's just collided with a man with blond hair and blue eyes, who seems so familiar that James can't seem to breath quite right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this one. Between lack of sleep, worry about school and allergies, I think just summery I just threw up came out better than the story. It looks a little better re-reading but...well. Sorry it's not at my usual standard?

**Flint/Hamilton Week:**

Day Four: Favorite Alternate Universe  
Theme: Alternate Universe and/or Reincarnation  
Quote/Song: _“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.” - Madeline Miller, ‘The Song of Achilles’_

TITLE: **To** **See You Again**

London was busy for such a dreary fall day and James was running late, the tube line closed exactly where he needed it and not a free taxi in sight no matter how hard he looked. Instead he had to run to get to his meeting, the rain drizzling down on him as he moved, unable to open his umbrella in the large crowd. He had just turned the last corner when someone bumped into him and a coffee cup went tumbling to the sidewalk.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going!”

James smiled, reaching an arm out to steady the other man, who was clearly more flustered than James himself felt that morning. “It's alright, no harm done.”

“Are you sure?” the other man asked, looking up. James froze when their eyes met, blinking slowly as all thoughts of his meeting were forgotten.

“Have we met?” he asked after a moment and the blond man in front of him shook his head slightly, as if he was unsure.

“I don't think so, not that I can recall...”

“Oh...” James said quietly, wondering just why he felt so sad at the fact. The other man smiled, and held out his hand.

“My name is Tom, Tom Harper,” he said and suddenly James chuckled, something picking at the back of his mind.

“James Mason,” he said, shaking Tom's hand. “My friends call me Jim.”

“This may sound odd,” Tom said, grinning, “But I feel as if I know you...like a memory at the back of my mind that I can't quiet reach...”

“Me too,” James smiled. “Oh,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I have a meeting I have to get to...Would you like to meet later?” he asked hurriedly, not really stopping to examine what had come over him. He didn't normally talk to strangers he ran into on the street or ask to meet them later when he hardly knew them.

“Back here at six?” Tom asked with a smile and James nodded, waving stupidly as he rushed into his building.

The rest of the day he couldn't get the man with blond hair and blue eyes out of his head and he waited eagerly for six o'clock to roll around, so much so that his secretary started making comments around two how him having a date and didn't stop until he left, ignoring her all the way out the door. Tom was waiting at the corner and instantly James felt lighter than he had in years. He shook himself, trying to ignore the confusion that wanted to take over his mind and instead smiled.

“Hey,” he said, his heart leaping when Tom spotted him and his eyes lit up. “You want to grab dinner somewhere?”

Tom nodded enthusiastically and they set off, heading for a pub James new a few blocks away. They talked about everything as they walked and ate, where they grew up, what they did, their families. Tom had grown up in York, James in London, they'd both gone to university to major in business, Tom was planning to start his own company soon. They discovered a shared love of music and classic literature. James was an only child, both his parents gone, Tom had one sister, and a half brother on his fathers side. He and his father didn't speak at all and as a result his sister refused to speak to their father either.

Throughout the night they could both feel the odd tugging sensation in the back of their minds, like they were forgetting something important that they couldn't quite reach. It wasn't until later that night, when they'd gone to Tom's flat and collapsed into bed together, a tangle of greedy lips and wandering hands that it all came flooding back, knocking the air from both of them.

“Jesus,” James muttered, his forehead pressed against the other man's collarbone as he gripped Tom's upper arms tightly. Memories of eighteenth century London and Nassau washed over him like he was watching a movie at high speed. His breathing was ragged as he recognized people that had surrounded him his whole life, he almost laughed when he realized his next door neighbor was Long John fucking Silver, and when he finally looked up again he saw all his feelings mirrored on Tom, Thomas', face.

“Hey,” Thomas said quietly, blinking as if he had been dragged through a wind tunnel and wasn't quite sure what to do with the calm.

“Hi,” James whispered, voice awed. “You...?”

“Saw everything, yeah...wow, I...god I've missed you,” was all Thomas managed before they were kissing again.

“I keep my promises you know,” James chuckled, suddenly cast back to a night so very long ago, in a light filled room, not entirely dissimilar to this one. “I will do everything in my power to always, always come back to you.”

“Fuck,” Thomas groaned, dragging James closer and kissing him until they were both breathless. James was grinning when they finally parted.

“I think that may be the first time I ever heard you swear,” he grinned wickedly. “I think I'm going to enjoy this.”

“We're getting married,” Thomas said decisively, grinning when James chuckled.

“Anything you want,” he whispered, drawing the other man into a burning kiss. “Anything you want.”


	5. When You're Far From Home - Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas watched the harbor every day, waiting for James to return. One afternoon Miranda catches him at it and they share a short conversation. 
> 
> This doesn't actually involve James, but there is pining happening so I hope it counts. Sorry also, is very very short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have a favorite headcanon, but I do enjoy Miranda as a complete enabler so. Small short thing. I'm going to try and write something a little bigger for six and seven.

**Flint/Hamilton Week:**

Day Five: Favorite Headcanon  
Theme: Family  
Quote/Song: Saturn - Sleeping At Last

TITLE: When You're Far From Home

“Thomas? Are you all right?”

“Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, I was lost in thought,” Thomas sighed, closing the book that rested open on his knees, page forgotten.

Miranda smiled, laying a hand against the pot of tea on the table to find, not surprisingly, that it had gone cold. With a sigh she went over to Thomas and laid her hands on his shoulders, resting her chin on top of his head as she followed his gaze out the window at the harbor.

“He'll be home soon,” she whispered and Thomas nodded, reaching for her hand.

“I married a wonderful woman,” he said softly, kissing her hand and Miranda chuckled.

“You didn't marry me because I'm wonderful,” she reminded him. “You married me because my father wanted it that way. The fact that I am so wonderful is just a bonus for you,” she chuckled and Thomas huffed.

“I miss him desperately,” he whispered quietly against her hand and she nodded sadly.

“My mother has been feeling under the weather again,” she said softly. “I imagine I'll have to go and visit her again...perhaps when a certain ship sails into port.”

Thomas twisted around to look at her with his eyebrows raised. “Did you go because she needed you, or did you go simply so I would be forced to take James along to my sister's wedding?”

Miranda just smirked.

“Really?” Thomas asked and she chuckled, patting his shoulders as she turned away. “You love to stir trouble, don't you?” he asked with a smile.

“That's what family is for, darling,” she called as she left the parlor and Thomas shook his head with a chuckle as he returned to watching the harbor, his spirits lifted. It had been ten weeks already and with any hope, James would return inside a month and then the other half of Thomas' family would be back with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On tumblr [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com) 


	6. When You're Lost At Sea - Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months after James is delivered to the plantation he and Thomas have escaped and are living near Boston. One day, Thomas asks about James' crew.

**Flint/Hamilton Week:**

Day Six: Favorite “Little Thing”  
Theme: True North  
Quote/Song: _“He leans in, and I smile against his lips, finally give up and let his love flood in and carve the last of my stone heart into a new shape I’m only just discovering. Somehow it doesn’t feel like a surrender. It feels like a victory.” - Kiersten White, ‘The Chaos of Stars’_

 

TITLE: When You're Lost At Sea

 

“Tell me about the men you sailed with,” Thomas said quietly, his fingers brushing gently up and down James' upper arm. James was leaning against Thomas' chest, a book in his lap, reading while Thomas gazed out the window. James paused, his fingers tightening on the book.

“They were just men,” he said after a moment.

“No one of note?” Thomas asked softly, pressing a kiss against the side of James' head, lips tickled by the short hairs there. They were longer than when James had first arrived at the plantation, longer than when he had broken them and a dozen other men out, longer than when they found this small house near Boston, but they were still maddeningly short and Thomas was waiting for the day when James' hair would be long enough to once more wrap around his fingers.

“They were just men,” James repeated quietly.

“One of them must have been exceptionally intelligent,” Thomas prodded gently. “I saw the shock on your face when you first saw me. This was not your plan or of your making. You didn't know.”

“I didn't believe,” James corrected. “Not after so long.”

“Tell me about someone, anyone, from your crew.”

James sighed, closing the book around his finger and trying to think of anyone that didn't bring him pain to recall. Finally he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Betsy,” he said quietly, thinking of the black and white cat that had always followed Randall, and after Randall, had taken a shine to...no, he wasn't going to think about Silver. Behind him Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“Betsy...” he repeated, skeptical. He knew as well as anyone that crews rarely sailed with women aboard.

“Ships mouser, and a damned good one,” Flint grinned and Thomas chuckled.

“The cat?”

“There was a dairy goat,” Flint started then shook his head. He didn't need to relay that particular story.

“Do I want to know?” Thomas asked at Flint's silence and he shook his head.

“Please never ask me about the goat again,” he said, trying to hold in his laughter. “It's not for...the ears of polite society...”

“Someone was fucking the dairy goat,” Thomas deadpanned and James burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. Thomas chuckled, relieved beyond belief that James was finally laughing, even if it had taken several months since they left the plantation and built a home together.

“Randall was our bosun, before a beating during a boarding left him stupid,” James said, his laughter subsiding but his smile remaining. Suddenly it seemed easier to speak of it, of the earlier days at least. “After that he was the ships cook. Looked after Betsy, heard all the ships gossip. I always wondered if he had really been left stupid of if he put it on himself. The men all spoke around him as if he didn't understand, but he remembered every word. Four years ago, I had a plan to go after a Spanish gold ship, the _Urca de Lima_ , carrying five million Spanish dollars in gold coin. The ship wrecked in a storm, but the man o'war guarding her didn't. One of our ships was scuttled and the other ran aground. My quartermaster led a mutiny, then almost at once proved himself utterly useless, leaving me back in command.”

“Jesus,” Thomas muttered, leaning his head against James' as he spoke.

“I had one man on my side, the new cook, an obnoxious little shit who had stolen the _Urca_ schedule out from under me and then burned it so that I wouldn't kill him the moment I laid hands on it. It was he who first shared the story of the dairy goat, heard from Randall, who knew everything that happened on the ship. He got the stories from Randall, and he told them at each meal, and took a beating for it for the first week. Eventually the men started to listen, got smart to the fact that if a man stood up and beat him for a story, it was obvious the story was about him.”

Thomas listened as James talked, moving through his tales like water flowing through a stream, now that he had started. He told of leaving the gold behind, returning to Nassau. He told stories of Charles Vane and Edward Teach, names that had drifted to Thomas' ears for their crimes against civilization. He told how the hanging of Vane had truly began the rebellion. He told of Billy's role on the ship, his fall, his return, his part in the rebellion and his eventual betrayal until finally he had told Thomas everything he could think of and only a few times did he have to tamp down his anger at events. All the while, Thomas noticed there was one person he never seemed to speak of again, at least not directly.

“What happened to that cook?” Thomas asked softly after James had fallen silent, his gaze lost out the window in the field before their house. James sighed.

“His name was John Silver,” James said quietly and Thomas tilted his head.

“The one legged man who Billy made a pirate king of?” he asked, surprised.

“He had two legs then,” James chuckled. “And a wicked tongue. He could talk his way into or out of anything. Saved my life more times than I can count.”

“He's the one who found me, isn't he?” Thomas asked and James nodded, falling quiet.

“He wanted an end to the war we had been fighting, before it took everything from him...I understand, I can understand it now, but then...then I had nothing left to live for the but the fight. I still don't know how he did it, I don't know how he knew about the place where you were, I only know that when he told me you were alive, I wanted to kill him for being so...cruel,” he said, his voice breaking.

Thomas wrapped both arms around James and pulled him tightly against his chest, trying to reassure the other man in any way he could. He had fought for so much, had lost so much, the last fourteen years, Thomas wanted nothing more than to crawl inside him and sooth his soul. He made do with his arms around the other man.

“I hate him,” James muttered. “I hate him for everything he did, but I owe him everything. I lost my way, my direction, and he found it again for me. He found me my true north again.”

“True north?” Thomas asked, momentarily perplexed.

“When you navigate by the stars, true north is the one star in the sky that never moves. It's how you find your way home, lost at year. You're mine,” James said, tilting his head up to smile at Thomas. “You always have been. You are my home, my salvation, my path.”

Thomas returned the smile, leaning forward just enough to brush a gentle kiss over James' lips, heart still racing at the thought that they could kiss any time they liked, make love any time they liked, and not have to worry about anyone finding them out or caring ever again. James sighed against him, sinking back into his chest like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a burden finally eased. When they fell asleep that night, it was the first time Thomas wasn't woken by James' nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, this wasn't meant to follow the example of 'reading in bed' but for some reason that's what came to me...Sorry for the delay, I'll have the last bit up later this evening too!
> 
> On tumblr [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com) 


	7. You, I Didn't Miss - Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after James and Thomas are reunited, John Silver shows up at the door, needing the help of Captain Flint. Somehow this quickly devolves into Thomas and Silver trading stories and irritating James as they set off to retrieve Silver's ship and the buried Urca treasure. 
> 
> There is one more small story after this, inspired by a comment left on one of the earlier installments, however this is it, the end of the prompts for Flint/Hamilton week on tumblr! I hope you all enjoyed!

**FlintHamilton Week**

Day 7: Free Choice – So...Thomas and Silver annoying Flint to no end because it's hilarious.

TITLE: **You, I Didn't Miss.**

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James asked, eyes wide, scowl on his face. Thomas glanced over from the carrots he was chopping up, wondering who or what was on the other side of the door to make James react that way. In the ten years since they had been reunited, he hadn't heard James swear in almost eight. An unfamiliar voice floated through the door, words indistinguishable and James slammed the door, cutting off whoever was speaking.

“Who was that?” Thomas asked and James froze, as if he had forgotten Thomas was sitting at the kitchen table. Suddenly his shoulders slumped and he sighed, ignoring the now persistent knocking.

“It's nothing. Don't answer the door, he'll leave,” James said, before he headed back to the bedroom. Thomas glanced at the door curiously.

The knocking persisted throughout the morning until Thomas finally rolled his eyes and, cautiously armed with a pistol which James had insisted one be kept by the door, he unbolted and pulled the door open. Standing on the threshold was a man with shoulder length graying hair and a dark black beard, his blue eyes hard and his mouth twisted in an annoyed scowl. One hand was raised where he had been knocking and the other gripped a wooden crutch tightly. Thomas' eyes dashed down along the white shirt, blue coat, dark breeches, to where his left foot should have been and immediately knew who stood on their doorstep and he had an inkling of understanding of James' reaction.

“Are you going to slam the door in my face as well?” Long John Silver asked with a raised eyebrow as he lowered his hand.

“He damned well should,” came James' growl from over Thomas shoulder and he turned to scowl at the other man.

“Are you even going to stop to ask why I'm here?” Silver asked and Thomas felt distinctly caught in the middle.

“I don't care,” James snapped.

“I need your help,” Silver said immediately on the heels of James' shout and suddenly the red haired man paused, shock clearly visible.

“My help?” he asked, disbelieving.

“My ship has been stolen,” Silver said.

“And why should I care if someone stole your ship?” James scoffed. Thomas wanted to back away, not to stand between the veritable harpoons being thrown between the two men.

“Because it was Billy Bones who stole it!” Silver finally shouted, stamping his crutch on the ground and Thomas dragged his eyes away from James to look at Silver.

“You'd better come in,” Thomas said quietly, his tone brokering no argument from either men. He'd heard his share of stories of Billy Bones over the years and knew it was one of the things that truly bothered James still, that the man had survived yet another attempt to drown him and had spent two years on the island where James had buried the chest of Spanish treasure before resurfacing in Port Royal.

Grunting, Silver came inside the small how and moved out of the way so Thomas could shut the door and put away the pistol, decidedly out of James' reach.

“Why the hell would you need my help?” James asked through gritted teeth as Thomas, _politely,_ offered their guest a chair.

“Because, he's got a fucking map to Skeleton Island and you're the only one I know alive who can still find it,” Silver ground out, his tone making it obvious he didn't want to be here any more than James wanted him here. Thomas just stood back and watched, hoping he wasn't going to have to physically separate a fight. He wasn't old yet, but he did have an old back injury that did him no favors and he wasn't looking forward to getting in between James and someone he was fighting.

“Jack knows-”

“Jack is dead,” Silver snapped. “They hung him three years ago. Anne fled to Europe and I haven't found a trace of her. I find it unlikely that he told her how to get there anyway. And he certainly never told Max.”

“I didn't know,” James said, slightly mollified by the news that Jack Rackham was no more. Thomas quietly put the kettle on for tea and found a bottle of brandy in the cupboard, still keeping an eye on the other two, and still feeling distinctly out of place after seeing James' past walk in the door.

“I need your help to catch him, and we can find the treasure while we're at it,” Silver said, suddenly grinning again.

“How are you going to catch him without a ship?” James asked, narrowing his eyes. It was a fair question, one which Silver shrugged at.

“I didn't say I didn't have any ship, just not _my_ ship,” he said, smirking, nodding to Thomas who placed a cup of tea before him and sat. James was still standing on the other side of the table, glaring. There were several long minutes of silence.

“Well...I'm always up for an adventure,” Thomas smiled at James over his cup of tea and James scowled at him, an entire conversation passing between them in seconds. Silver leaned back against his chair, watching them, fascination on his face.

“You're not going,” James said and Thomas just raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to continue why exactly Thomas would not be going.

“Fine,” James growled after a minute of staring and he stormed from the table muttering about how he had just found a quiet life and now he was being dragged back into the pit that was sailing. Silver smirked after him as he vanished, before turning a curious gaze on Thomas.

“So you're Thomas Hamilton then,” he said, looking the other man over. “Pleasure to meet you,” he extended his hand for Thomas to shake. He did so, smiling slightly.

“I've heard some stories about you,” he admitted, ignoring the crashing sounds coming from the bedroom where James was no doubt throwing things as he packed a bag.

“All bad, I'm sure,” Silver grinned and Thomas shook his head.

“For the most part what I took away from those stories was how much James came to admire you and your convictions,” Thomas said and Silver faltered, glancing at the hallway.

“And I imagined he would shoot me the minute he opened the door,” he said quietly.

“I unloaded all his pistols,” Thomas said, taking a sip of tea. “There was an incident with the kettle the first year we were here.”

Silver stared. “He shot the kettle?”

“Indeed,” Thomas smirked. “I believe the whistling offended him.” Silver stared for another moment before bursting out laughing.

“He's been happy here?” Silver asked quietly when his laughter subsided. Thomas nodded.

“Thank you, for what you did for him. Everything, you did for him,” Thomas said sincerely and Silver nodded.

“Quit plotting like old housewives,” James growled as he appeared with two packs and shoved one at Thomas before pulling on his boots and storming out the door.

As the other two made their way out onto the road after Thomas had pulled on boots and a heavy coat, Silver fell in step with him, smirking at the back of James' head, ten feet in front of them.

“Thomas, you must tell me exactly how you managed to win the silent argument back there,” Silver said with a grin. Ahead of them James' shoulders stiffened, but he didn't turn or slow. Thomas smirked, pulling on his gloves.

“Well, some things don't need to be conveyed out loud you know, like the fact that I know he wants this, he's missed the sea terribly the last few years, he's ranted to no end the last ten years about Billy Bones, so on and so forth, and the fact that if he doesn't go, and let me come with him this time, I won't let him share my bed for anywhere up to half a year.”

Silver chuckled, shaking his head. “And somehow you manage to quell the beast. I seem to remember making a similar threat once,” he grinned. “It didn't work,” he leered at James back and he received a rude hand gesture in return while Thomas stopped dead in the street and stared at both of them before trotting to catch up to James, punching him on the shoulder while Silver sniggered, easily keeping pace with them.

“Didn't tell you that part, did he?” Silver asked with a smirk.

“No, he didn't,” Thomas muttered. “That of course doesn't mean I didn't already know. It's nice to have my guess proved though.”

James cut him an unimpressed look and Thomas just shrugged.

“If you two don't stop talking, I'm going to shoot myself before we even fucking find Billy,” James growled and Thomas and Silver just grinned at one another, silently acknowledging that their sharing of stories would wait until the former captain was decidedly _out_ of earshot.

Thomas, personally, was looking forward to seeing a new side of James, revealed by someone who had spent almost four years at his side when he sailed as the infamous Captain Flint. It was a time James hadn't spoken about much since the first time Thomas had begged the story from him, and Thomas Hamilton was nothing if not curious to a fault. Plus he never had actually been on a real adventure. It was all in all, very thrilling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DONE! Yay, although there is one more snippet like I said. I'll post it tomorrow. It's a little continuation from "To See You Again" where they meet in modern times in London. 
> 
> As always, come cry to me [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com) 


	8. To Memory - Bonus Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is finally the end. This chapter is set immediately following 'To See You Again' thus is in the modern reincarnation world. One of the comments posted talked about Silver causing unending trouble as the next door neighbor and this spewed out. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For slowestshark who commented about Silver climbing across balconies. Hope you enjoy the silly!

James Mason had lived in his flat for five years. His neighbor, John, last name somehow still unknown, had lived in the flat next door for four and a half. John could be quiet, when he wanted to be, and occasionally James would have an entire week to himself, but this was not often the case.

Most recently, John had climbed across the balconies outside their mirror image living rooms and into James apartment at one in the morning the previous Saturday. James, fortunately, had been awake reading and had merely raised an eyebrow when the man tumbled to the living room floor, again. This was a fairly normal occurrence, usually after John's girlfriend Minnie had visited. Minnie was much more polite and had introduced herself to James right after John had asked her to move in. As yet, she hadn't moved in and James was beginning to wonder what exactly was going on. Tonights arguments hadn't been particularly loud.

“There's rum on the table,” he said, only glancing up from his book as John struggled to stand. “How's Minnie?”

“Over,” John managed to grumble as he headed for the kitchen. James barely managed to move his feet out of the way when John collapsed on the end of the couch, bottle in hand.

“Sorry,” James muttered and John shrugged.

It was a nearly weekly ritual that almost always ended up with John passed out on James' couch and gone the next morning. Until there was one evening where John appeared at the window to find James was not alone, but engaged in a furious make out session with another man on the very couch he normally spent his drunken unconsciousness on. Of course, being drunk, John didn't manage to retreat silently and received a scathing look from James on his way back across the balcony, but then perhaps he'd surprised the man. It was Tuesday after all.

James had sighed, realizing it was the first time he had seen John since he remembered everything two weeks before. He wanted to say something, many many things, but he was still preoccupied with Thomas and it could wait. It did wait, almost three months, during which time John made sure to stick to Saturday to sneak in and pass out on James' couch, refusing to speak to James, who ignored him like he wasn't there. They were both too stubborn to broach any subject, but the bottle of rum was always on the table and only occasionally was James not even there. He sighed one night when he and Thomas came back, and at Thomas' prodding, he tossed a blanket over John and closed the balcony door.

This went on until one Tuesday night when Thomas was laying across James, reading from an old version of the Odyssey.

“What in gods name is that?” Thomas asked, eyes wide as he stared at the wall above his head, the sudden noise loud in the quiet night. He sat up, still staring at the pale blue wall.

“My neighbor,” James said, wincing as the sounds of guitar came through the walls quite clearly.

“It's after midnight!”

“I usually sleep with earplugs,” James admitted, tugging Thomas back down so they were curled together. After a few weeks the memories were starting to settle in with the his life now, fading away to a background knowledge rather than being right on the surface, but some things were still fresh and painful.

“Excuse me,” James said a moment later, pushing Thomas aside gently and rising from the bed, pulling on a black shirt as he left his apartment barefooted and knocked on his neighbors door, loudly. John, of course, answered the door ginning, entirely unprepared for James' fist to connect with his jaw.

“What the fuck?” he asked from the ground, hand on his face as he stared up at James.

“That's for my fucking war,” James growled and John paused before a look of immense relief flooded over his face.

“Jesus, you finally remembered,” he breathed. James' eyes widened.

“You knew?” he asked, holding out a hand to help John up. He felt better after punching him, the old anger receding.

“Christ, you're a hard man to forget,” John said, pulling himself up and then wrapping James in a crushing embrace. “I missed you, you absolute fucker,” he growled.

James finally laughed, putting his arms around John and hugging him, willing to admit that perhaps, a little, he had missed him too.

“Is that why you spent four years climbing in my window every Saturday?” he asked, pushing John back to glare at him. John shrugged.

“You seemed like you needed company...usually,” he smirked, recalling the day he'd stumbled on more than the normal proffered bottle of rum and had chosen wisely to flee before James could actually murder him. “Tell me, that man who's been practically living in your apartment for three months, would that happen to be the man once known as Thomas Hamilton?”

Finally, James smiled a wide and genuine smile, nodding.

“Well get him over here, we're having a party,” John said, sweeping an arm at the room behind him and for the first time James looked up to see, to his astonishment, people he vaguely recognized. Looking closer he saw none other than Anne Bonny, Jack Rackham and Charles Vane.

“Oh, christ,” he muttered. “They remember too?” John nodded, grinning when he spotted Thomas hovering at the door behind James and quickly dragged them both inside.

“To Nassau!” he cried, passing around glasses and holding up a bottle of rum.

“Jesus, you're still a complete shit,” James muttered and everyone laughed, the resentment and hurts from their last lives together fading into the past as they spoke anew and began to forge a friendship, something that had forever been elusive in a world of pirates and thieves. With a happy sigh, James wrapped an arm around Thomas, content to watch John and Charles fighting with one another over whatever they were fighting over. It was a good time to be alive again, a better time than before. Now, they had a real chance at freedom and happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on Tumblr [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com)


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